


Bun in the Oven

by freckledandspectacled



Series: Prompt List #1 [14]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childbirth, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Discussion of Abortion, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Planning, Fluff, Foot Massage, Gender Dysphoria, Kissing, Light Angst, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage, Pregnancy, Season 3 AU, Sleepy Cuddles, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, True Love, Unplanned Pregnancy, Wedding Fluff, Weddings, mention of miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 22:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12898038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckledandspectacled/pseuds/freckledandspectacled
Summary: Chapter One: 42. “I’m pregnant.”Chapter Two: 44. "Cuddle me."





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 42\. "I'm pregnant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Initially, I was going to have Edward become pregnant despite being on T (PSA: that can actually happen, use contraceptives y’all) but I wasn’t sure how that would ultimately effect a developing fetus so I went with an alternative.

Edward hadn’t planned on having children. When he’d first started to transition at the age of 20, he was largely uninterested in the possibility. He’d undergone top surgery a few years later, though it wasn’t until he was 27 that he decided to begin taking testosterone as well. His doctor had warned him that his fertility might be permanently affected, but Edward had declined the option to bank any of his eggs. If having children was of any interest in the future, he was just as interested in adopting. He’d never felt any inherent desire for biological children, and he would much rather offer a home to a child who didn’t have one than deal with the stresses of having a child himself.

He’d been told there was still a possibility of becoming pregnant despite being on T, but it had barely registered. He was only interested in women at the time (if he was being honest, one woman named Kristen Kringle in particular). When he became involved with Oswald, he’d been on T consistently for three years, barring his stay in Arkham, where he’d missed a few doses. Six weeks into his sentence, he’d experienced his first period in two years. Though it did not rank as his most miserable week in Arkham, it was a near thing. Towards the end of his stay, his dosage was _finally_ approved by the new Warden, though Oswald managed to have him released before he could even enjoy the benefit.

Everything had happened so quickly after that. Edward hadn’t been sure that the midst of Oswald’s campaign was a good time to be blackmailing a pharmacist into letting him purchase hormones, so he’d decided to forgo it just a little longer. He wanted Oswald’s election to be squeaky clean, and he would not risk becoming the source of a scandal. After the success of Oswald’s election, he’d become somewhat preoccupied by the Red Hood Gang, and the apparent involvement of Butch Gilzean. It was the day after the incident at _The Sirens_ that he’d finally been in a position to arrange for the resumption of his testosterone injections through more legitimate means. Edward had made an appointment with a doctor he’d carefully vetted, and in two weeks’ time he was certain that he’d be able to start T again. It was a relief to have the arrangements in order, and he’d allowed himself to focus on finding Butch Gilzean in the meantime.

That same day, Oswald had confessed to being in love with him. It was perhaps an understatement to say that Edward had been over the moon ever since. Yet he still had some trouble reconciling the wide range of emotions that fateful day had brought him. By evening, Oswald had expressed that he believed Edward was his one true love; yet that very morning, Edward had been worried about his standing with Oswald. About an hour after he’d scheduled his appointment, Oswald had come to his desk with something urgent to relay, only to tell him an obvious lie about ‘forgetting’ what he had to say.  Given everything that had happened the night before, Edward was worried he’d overstepped, despite Oswald’s sincere assurance that he wasn’t disappointed in Edward’s performance as chief of staff. Oswald had later asked him to dinner, and Edward had been pleased that Oswald was no longer going to avoid telling him what was on his mind. Of course, he hadn’t exactly expected Oswald to be so forthwith about his feelings, nor could he have anticipated the strength of those feelings. In a way, Edward had been a bit blindsided. Up until that point, the relationship between himself and Oswald had been that of a close friendship. To hear Oswald professing his love had been startling, but Edward couldn’t deny that his interest in Oswald went beyond mere friendship.

For lack of anything of equal magnitude to tell Oswald in return, Edward had told him just that. He liked Oswald as more than a friend. Oswald had been elated, practically knocking his chair over in his haste to take Edward’s hand in his own and press a kiss to the back of it, fervently asking Edward if he’d like to go out with him, as though his entire world hinged on Edward’s answer. Edward had blushed furiously and eagerly agreed. In the days that followed, there was scarcely a time that Edward and Oswald were not in each other’s presence. They only ever parted when Oswald had criminal dealings and left Edward to mind City Hall, or when they kissed one another good night and went to their separate beds. A week into their whirlwind romance, Edward took a chance and asked Oswald if he’d like to come to bed with him. Oswald, red-faced and stuttering, had mumbled something like agreement and allowed Edward to take him by the hand into his bed.

A new sexual facet to their relationship soon emerged. Edward stopped sleeping in his bed and began occupying Oswald’s exclusively. When he finally made it to his appointment a week later, he was the happiest he could ever recall being. It felt like he’d scheduled it a lifetime ago. He didn’t even mind that his doctor wanted bloodwork done before he went back on T, or that it would be a month until he could get into the lab. Being in love with Oswald made the time fly by, it made him feel like he could walk on air. The sudden realization that he was in love hit him like a freight train. He almost couldn’t believe it had taken a man in possession of his level of intelligence _this_ long to notice that he was _deeply_ in love with Oswald. Edward resolved to tell Oswald his epiphany when he went home, presenting him with a bouquet of roses and then gently kissing his tears of happiness away. Oswald had made love to him again that night, and nothing Edward had experienced before that ever felt so right.

It didn’t occur to him that he’d missed a period until a month and a half later, when his doctor called and told him his lab results had come in bearing unusual results.

“Your white blood cell count is very high,” she told him. “I’d like to run some additional tests. You mentioned that you’re sexually active?”

“I am,” Edward said, the color draining from his face.

“I’d like to get you in touch with an OB-GYN before we jump to any conclusions. I can’t recommend Doctor Cameron enough, she—” Edward hung up the phone. He took a trip to the pharmacy and bought ten pregnancy tests. Methodically, he took each one and laid them out on the counter, noting the time and then settling in for the harrowing wait.  

All ten were positive.

He called Doctor Cameron.

***

A visit to the specialist confirmed that he was in fact pregnant. If he was on his own, Edward certainly would have arranged for an abortion. He wasn’t ready for a child, hadn’t planned accordingly for one. He wasn’t even sure if he could handle the potential dysphoria that would come with this. Edward had never been interested in having bottom surgery, because his anatomy didn’t bother him. He knew he was a man, and he was secure in that fact, but seeing the evidence of his difference every day for the next seven months would be difficult.

He wasn’t alone, though. Oswald was his boyfriend, or his partner… they hadn’t really been calling it anything. They had a stable home, they were financially secure. He could count on Oswald to be a father to his child, he was sure of it. Edward couldn’t stomach the idea of having an abortion without first assessing Oswald’s willingness to commit to this, and his feelings about Edward going through with the pregnancy. Oswald had lost so much family already, and even if he never had to find out about it, _Edward_ would know. He could already see himself spending the rest of his life with Oswald, and he didn’t want to harbor any secrets from him, especially such a life-changing one. Not only that, but perhaps this would be their only opportunity to have a child of their own. They were both criminals, after all. How likely was it that a legitimate adoption would be possible for them? 

He was already at eight weeks, and although he was convicted about telling Oswald, he also didn’t want anything to go wrong. The pregnancy was still in the delicate phase where a miscarriage was possible, and he didn’t want to tell Oswald at the risk of getting his hopes up and subsequently crushing him. Even worse would be if Oswald wanted to try for _another_ , in which case Edward would have to put his foot down and tell him in no uncertain terms that he wouldn’t. Following through with what fate had dictated was one thing; actively trying to have a child was another thing entirely.

Almost immediately after his appointment, Edward began struggling with morning sickness. This was extremely difficult to conceal from Oswald, but it did have a few advantages. While he counted down the final four weeks until he’d tell Oswald, he was able to avoid drinking by citing his upset stomach, which Oswald had born witness to on many occasions by then. He was also able to take the various new vitamins and minerals Doctor Cameron had prescribed under the guise of helping his nausea as well.

With only a week left, he made plans for a romantic dinner with Oswald. Olga would of course be in charge of the menu, and there would be no wine. If he wasn’t drinking, neither was Oswald. It was only fair. Edward made sure everything was perfect, and when the fateful day came he was committed to telling Oswald, despite his fears. He’d become somewhat attached to the idea of being pregnant, and of having Oswald’s child. Edward’s fears of dysphoria and of being an ill-prepared parent had shifted to a fear that Oswald would want him to terminate the pregnancy, that he’d want nothing to do with them. He’d been so convinced that Oswald would want the baby, but what if he was wrong?

It was after dessert was brought out that he began the discussion.

“I have some… very big news for you,” Edward said. Oswald put his utensils down and glanced up.

“Oh?” 

Edward tried to force the words out, but instead of telling Oswald in a straightforward manner as he’d intended, what instead sprang forth was anything but.

“What do I have in common with a chef who’s baking a dinner roll?” Oswald’s brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to answer, but Edward couldn’t contain himself. 

“A bun in the oven.” Oswald’s eyes narrowed.

“A bun in the oven?” Edward took a deep breath and forced the unfettered truth out. 

“I’m pregnant.” Oswald’s eyes widened to a truly comedic diameter, then he laughed nervously.

“Okay, really now. What’s the news?” Edward stood, coming around the table to where Oswald was seated. He took hold of both his hands and pulled him out of his chair until they were both standing, Oswald visibly bewildered. He squeezed Oswald’s fingers for comfort and tried again.

“I’m pregnant,” Edward whispered, blinking tears from his eyes. These hormones were truly unbelievable.

“You’re pregnant?” Oswald whispered, searching his face. Edward nodded, suddenly finding his throat so tight he had trouble speaking.

“You’re going to be a father,” Edward said. _Oh dear_. He hadn’t meant to imply that he was set on carrying the child to term, though he did intend to. Regardless of what Oswald chose concerning his involvement, Edward wanted this child. He wanted to be a father. 

“You’re having my baby?” Oswald asked, voice cracking. Edward could only nod in response, overcome by emotion.

“I love you,” Oswald said, hugging him firmly but with care, kissing his cheek. “I love you so much.” In no imagined version of this event had Edward expected Oswald to drop down onto his knees, to kiss his stomach and whisper ‘I love you’. He stroked Oswald hair and cried as he unbuttoned Edward’s shirt and peppered his bare skin in kisses, professing his love for their child all the while.

“Oswald,” Edward called softly. Oswald rose unsteadily from the floor and kissed him, one hand resting protectively on the curve of Edward’s stomach. Edward held Oswald’s face in both hands as they kissed, tears spilling from his cheeks onto Oswald’s. Oswald loved their child, loved Edward. They were going to be a _family_.

“Marry me,” Oswald said, breaking the kiss.

“What?” Edward gasped.

“I want you to marry me,” Oswald insisted. “You’re the love of my life, Edward. The man I want to spend the rest of my life with. Please say yes.”

“Yes,” Edward breathed. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” Oswald pulled a ring off his finger, trying it on Edward’s. It was loose, Edward’s fingers longer and more slender than his. He put it on Edward’s middle finger, where it was more secure.

“I’ll buy you a better one,” Oswald promised, kissing his knuckles. “You’ll never want for anything, my love.”

“I just want you,” Edward told him, kissing him again. It was several long moments before Oswald gently parted their lips, pressing one last soft kiss to Edward’s mouth as though he simply couldn’t help himself.

“Perhaps it’s a bit soon to ask, but…” Oswald trailed off. “Would you consider having the baby be a Cobblepot?”

“Consider it done,” Edward said. He’d never intended his name to be anyone’s but his own. “I get ultimate say on a first name, though.”

“Can I veto any ideas I particularly hate?” Oswald asked. His warm hand was still resting gently over Edward’s stomach.

“Fair enough,” Edward said, nuzzling their noses together. “Since you’ll have to live with it as well.”

“We’re going to get married,” Oswald said, staring up into Edward’s warm brown eyes with something like awe. “You’re pregnant with our child. We’re going to be _fathers_.”

“Well, we do have six months to wait,” Edward said.

“Only six?” Oswald asked, eyes widening. “We have so much to do.”

“I think we can handle it,” Edward said, placing his own hand over the one Oswald was keeping on his stomach with a soft smile. “I’ll start writing a third schedule for you detailing your duties as a husband and a father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kind of interested in expanding on this but I don't know... I've left all the other prompts as they are because of the nature of the one-shot but I really love this concept? Anyways, please drop a comment if you enjoyed this, OR- and this is important- if I got something wrong. that is all <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 44\. "Cuddle Me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to the response I got, a continuation was inevitable. I only hope that all those who enjoyed the first part find equal joy in this.

It wasn’t until the next morning that it fully sank in, that the magnitude of what they were doing occurred to him. They were in this together, they were going to raise a child together, spend their lives together. It hit him while he was crouched over the toilet in the men’s room at City Hall, losing his breakfast to morning sickness. Oswald had rushed after him and shouldered his way into the handicapped stall before Edward could latch it. He was currently on the bathroom floor behind Edward, rubbing his back. Edward wanted to tell him to stand, that the floors were filthy, yet was unable due to the fact that he was heaving.

“Should you be throwing up this much?” Oswald asked, concerned and slightly panicked. Until last night, he’d been led to believe that Edward was suffering from a bug. He knew better now; the only thing upsetting Edward’s stomach was their child. Edward spat and brought a shaking hand up, depressing the handle.

“It’s normal,” Edward said, a little out of breath. The mad dash to the bathroom and subsequent purging had taken a lot out of him. “You didn’t have to follow me, I’m fine.”

“I want to be here for you,” Oswald told him, pushing Edward’s hair out of his face. He stood, offering Edward a hand. “This is _our_ baby.”

Edward ran a hand over the slight curve of his stomach and huffed, smiling. Oswald was quickly taking to his new role, it seemed. Happiness and contentment unlike anything he’d ever know warmed him down to his toes, unspoiled even by the acidic taste in his mouth.

“Well, I suppose it _is_ your fault…”

“All my fault,” Oswald agreed, smiling proudly.

***

Edward was determined to fix up the baby’s room while he still could, a light green paint on his roller while he touched up the space next to the master bedroom and transformed it into a nursery.

“What are you up to?” Oswald asked, cane tapping away into the room.

“Painting,” Edward said, utterly focused on the task at hand.

“Can I pull you away for lunch?” Oswald asked, coming up behind him.

“Just a minute,” Edward lied, feeling Oswald’s hands on his hips, the press of him against his back. “Oswald, your clothes. I’m covered in paint—”

“I don’t care,” Oswald said, kissing his neck. “You look so handsome.” Edward flushed and set the roller down, turning in Oswald’s arms.

“What’s brought this on?” he asked, arms winding around Oswald’s shoulders. Oswald lifted his hand and ran a thumb across his cheekbone reverently.

“You have some green here,” Oswald told him, kissing his cheek. “It’s a good color on you.” Edward wished it weren’t so easy for Oswald to flatter him, that he wasn’t positively _melting_ into his arms already. The interruption of his concentration should have annoyed him, and yet—

“What do you think of the color?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the bridge of Oswald’s nose.

“It could use some purple,” Oswald suggested, pushing a hand into Edward’s hair and scratching. Oh, that was _cheating_.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Edward said, already decided on the exact shade of light purple for the opposite two walls. Anything for Oswald.

***

Their wedding was at City Hall, no formal reception. They told the press the date and time of their union in advance, but were surprised to find huge crowds of supporters as their limo drove through.

“The public loves you,” Edward said, squeezing Oswald’s hand. He was a bit anxious at the prospect of having to have to push through the masses to get inside. They’d informed the GCPD of their plans—hoping that the department would handle crowd control regarding the press—but he doubted anyone had been prepared for this kind of turn out from the people of Gotham. He certainly hadn’t anticipated it.

“They love _us_ ,” Oswald corrected, squeezing back. No doubt he’d picked up on Edward’s apprehension, telling him, “Don’t fret, my love. We’ll be in and out without a hitch.”

“I was under the impression that the goal of this enterprise _was_ to get hitched,” Edward replied, grinning widely at his husband-to-be. Oswald rolled his eyes.

“You couldn’t even hold back on our wedding day?” he teased, kissing Edward’s knuckles.

“Consider the terrible pun as foreshadowing. A glimpse of what you’re signing up for.” They’d arrived, Oswald kissing him fiercely as the driver rolled to a stop and exited the vehicle.

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” Oswald assured him, hands fixed on either side of Edward’s face, as though he could make him understand through sheer power of will alone. “I love you more than anything, _want_ this more than anything.”

“I love you so much,” Edward whispered, fingers twisting in the lapels of Oswald’s tux and dragging him into another kiss, wrinkling the white material. The door opened, and he broke away, allowing Oswald to slide out of the car and into the chaos outside. He followed, taking Oswald’s proffered hand and letting himself be guided out of the car. Edward reached back inside and then handed Oswald his cane, putting his arm through Oswald’s when he was ready.

The GCPD did an excellent job keeping the observers back. Edward and Oswald smiled wide for the public and the cameras, Edward waving with his free hand. They were both clad in white from head to toe, Edward’s new engagement ring refracting brilliantly on his finger, even brighter than their smiles. It had been a week since he’d informed Oswald of the pregnancy. Since then, Oswald had gone on a rampage though Gotham city for the clearest, most perfect diamond, finally presenting it to Edward on the eve of their wedding. It had been Edward who insisted they have the wedding as quickly as possible; he hadn’t wanted any evidence of his pregnancy in their personal photos, or the media coverage. Oswald had happily agreed, no doubt eager to put a second ring on Edward’s finger.

Finally, they were safely inside the building. They exchanged promises and rings and kisses, signing on a dotted line. They both cried during the official proceedings, dabbing at each other’s faces in the aftermath with their handkerchiefs so they could pose for a few pictures; grooms grooming one another for posterity. Edward briefly thought of what he’d tell their child when he inevitably shared their wedding photos. Perhaps that he thought of them in this moment, camera flashing across his smiling face.

***

“It looks like an alien,” Edward said, largely unimpressed, gel from the ultrasound cool on his skin as Doctor Cameron moved the instrument across his belly.

“It’s beautiful,” Oswald countered, covering his trembling lip with one hand.

“Would you like to know the baby’s sex?” Doctor Cameron asked.

“Yes,” Edward said.

“No,” Oswald said. Doctor Cameron smiled. It was likely she dealt with this often.

“I want to know,” Edward told his husband, squeezing his hand.

“I want it to be a surprise,” Oswald argued, kissing his knuckles. “Please?”

“I think we’re having a girl,” Edward said, directing this to the Doctor.

“We’re having a boy,” Oswald stated, convicted.

“Well, you’re not having an alien,” Doctor Cameron replied, her effortless navigation of the conflict largely due to the benefit of experience. “However, Oswald’s family history indicates that you’re at an increased risk for having a child with a birth defect. Specifically, the baby’s heart. I would recommend that you undergo amniocentesis to check for any health problems and allow us to plan ahead.”

“What does the test involve?” Edward asked, picking nervously at the open buttons of his shirt.

“I would be inserting a needle through your belly and into your uterus. Then I’d be removing some amniotic fluid and sending it to our lab for testing,” Doctor Cameron explained.

“Are there any risks?” Oswald asked, looking down at Edward, who just so happened to have the very same question in mind.

“Well, we list all potential risks on our waiver for the procedure, if you’d like to read it?”

“Yes, please,” Edward said, shifting uncomfortably on the table.

“You can sit up and get dressed,” the Doctor said, leaving the room to fetch the waiver. “I’ve already taken some photos of the baby for you, and gotten everything I needed.” Edward began buttoning his shirt, and was fully presentable by the time she returned and handed him the form. He skimmed it for approximately one second and promptly handed it back.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not, dearest?” Oswald asked him, brows pinched together with concern. Edward swallowed and glanced up at him.

“I could miscarry,” he whispered, as if even voicing it aloud was tempting fate.

“Mr. Cobblepot, I assure you, the chances of that happening are less than half a percent—”

“I don’t think the procedure will be necessary,” Oswald said, rubbing a comforting hand over Edward’s back. “I’d like those photos, please. And if that is all, we’ll be going now.”

Oswald kept a photo in his wallet, Edward put another on the fridge and in his lockbox. They did not speak of the incident again until that night, when Edward found his husband in bed, crying quietly. He had the image from the ultrasound in hand, the focal point of his grief. Edward climbed into bed and held him, carded fingers through his hair. When Oswald’s tears began to subside, he dared to ask him:

“What’s wrong?” Oswald rubbed at his eyes with both hands, heels digging into the sockets.

“If anything is wrong with the baby, it’s my fault. I didn’t even think of it until today.” His face was tormented by possibility, by chance; Edward raised a hand and tried to soothe it away.

“There’s nothing wrong with the baby,” Edward said, absolute strength and certainty in his tone.

“You don’t _know_ that,” Oswald said, an edge of hysteria sharpening his words. From the Latin term, hustera, or ‘womb’. Taken from the Greek husterikos, ‘of the womb’. Perhaps hysteria wasn’t the best term to use. Or maybe it was.

“I do know it,” Edward said, final. “And it’s not your _fault_ , Oswald. You’re jumping to conclusions. There’s no reason to assume that our child won’t be perfectly healthy. Even if there _is_ something wrong, the baby will be in good hands. Doctors are prepared for any issues after birth, I _promise_.”

“What if I passed on those genes, Edward? That makes it my _fault_. If you’d done this with anyone else their baby would be healthy—”

“Stop it,” Edward cut in, taking Oswald’s face between his hands. “No. S _top right now._ Listen to me:I want to have _your_ baby, Oswald. Not anyone else’s. Don’t think for even a second that I would ever, _ever_ havelet another man do this to me.” He took Oswald’s hand and pressed it over his bump, emphasizing his point.

“You’re the only one, Oswald.” And with that, Edward kissed him, pouring all his love, his heart, his soul into it. Oswald had been so careful with him lately, hands gentle on Edward’s ribs as Edward tried to kiss him deeper, more passionately. He wished he could show Oswald how completely he belonged to him, wondered if he would ever be able to. Edward was carrying his _child_ , and yet it seemed that Oswald still could not comprehend the depth of Edward’s devotion to him. Edward finally broke away, lashes fluttering open. He always forgot himself when they kissed like this, even though his initiation of the kiss came from a need to illustrate his point.

“You know you’re the only one for me as well,” Oswald whispered, one hand coming up to brush hair back off Edward’s forehead.

“Of course,” Edward smirked. “I’m quite the catch. You’ll never do better than me.”

“Egomaniac,” Oswald said fondly, leaning in for another kiss.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Edward teased, pecking at his lips.

“You’re right,” Oswald said, tugging him closer by the waist in retaliation, yet still ever so tender.

“That’s how I feel about you,” Edward said, suddenly quite serious. “I feel so… so fortunate that fate brought us together. That it gave me you, and that you gave me this child. I want you to know that I wouldn’t trade what we have for _anything_.” Oswald’s lip trembled, and he attempted to hide it by kissing Edward again. Edward ducked his chin and then brushed their noses together, staring into his husband’s eyes expectantly. He could tell Oswald had more to say.

“Having you in my life after my mother died, and then my father… Edward, you’ve become _everything_ to me. You’ve given me a _family_ again, and I—” Oswald was unable to finish, pulling Edward into a hug and crying into his shoulder.

“I’m so grateful,” he finally managed. “But I’m so scared I’ll lose this one, too.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Edward vowed, and that was the end of it.

***

“Cuddle me,” Edward whined, arms outstretched and pleading for his husband to come to bed. Oswald smiled and went into his embrace, nuzzling the side of Edward’s face and settling down behind him.

“Feeling needy, are we?” Oswald teased, kissing Edward’s neck and running a hand over his rounding stomach. Edward hummed and caught his hand, kissing at the palm. He had classical music playing on the gramophone while he relaxed in bed. Oswald hazarded a guess. “Mozart?”

“Mozart makes babies smart,” Edward muttered, utterly adorable when he was sleepy like this. Gasping abruptly, his eyes snapped open.

“What?” Oswald asked, mind immediately jumping to the conclusion that something was wrong with the baby.

“Here,” Edward said, sounding oddly choked up. The sound did nothing to ease Oswald’s sudden panic. Edward placed Oswald’s palm over his bump. “Feel here.”

Beneath Oswald’s hand—unmistakable—their child was moving. Oswald laughed, a kind of joy he’d never experienced suffusing him. Here, spooning the love of his life, while their baby kicked against his hand. This was, without question, the happiest he’d ever been.

“I love you,” Oswald wept, kissing the side of Edward’s face. “I love you both so much.”

“I love you, too,” Edward whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks in time with Oswald’s. Eine kleine Nachtmusik provided the tempo of their joy.

***

When they returned from their childbirth class, Edward was in a terrible mood. Oswald had been vigilant about helping Edward with the swelling in his feet and ankles, and had provided countless back massages, but something else was amiss. Oswald had a suspicion that this wasn’t just about the physical demands of the pregnancy. Edward looked absolutely miserable as he carefully lowered himself onto the couch, propping his feet up with a pillow. Oswald quickly intervened to replace the pillow on the couch, moving Edward’s legs into his lap and beginning to massage them.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, focused on easing the hurt in Edward’s feet first.

“I’m _huge_ … and I miss my clothes,” Edward said, glanding down at his hands. Edward was wearing sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, an outfit he’d never have been caught dead in before the pregnancy. Oswald thought he understood. Their shopping trip for maternity wear had been an utter failure, and Edward had been extremely uncomfortable the entire time. They’d left empty handed, and Edward had later gone shopping for men’s clothing which would normally be several sizes too large for him.

Oswald knew the transformative power of clothing intimately well himself, but Edward used clothing differently. He’d seen the way Edward cleverly camouflaged the curve of his hips with cuts and patterns that made his silhouette into lines. He knew how hard Edward had worked to disguise himself, to disguise all the things that would allow for the less educated to think him a woman masquerading as a man.

There were other things that his current wardrobe was lacking, aside from his usual style. It did nothing to prevent his chest from leaving telling stains on the front of his shirt, hence Edward’s decision to opt for a loose upper layer. Despite having undergone top surgery, Edward would still be able to chestfeed their child, which he planned on doing. Unfortunately, this meant he would also have to deal with the dreaded _leaking_ that came with having a baby. Women had alternatives, of course. Breast pads worn inside of bras, for example. But Oswald had watched Edward’s face drain of color at the suggestion of having to wear a bra, and Oswald had not allowed for mention of the subject in his presence again.

“I’ll take care of it,” Oswald told him, knowing now what needed to be done. That night he raided the maternity wear aisle for acceptable button downs. He burned the midnight oil modifying the loose tops to fit Edward’s chest, which was much flatter than what the designers had in mind. Built in breast pads solved the issue of Edward having to wear a bra to prevent any discomfiting leaking. He located several of the men’s shirts Edward had also purchased, which would normally be ridiculously oversized on his frame, and gave them the same treatment. Thankfully, they had managed to find stylish, business-esque maternity pants that would not be at complete odds with Edward’s suit jackets (which he could still wear, but not button, much to his frustration). Waistcoats were out, but they’d never been a necessity for the clothes Edward wore in the office anyhow. Oswald worked through the night, exhausted, but it was worth it to have a gift to present to Edward in the morning. Worth it to see him smile.

That morning, he rose early and laid an outfit out for his husband. Upon waking, Edward hesitantly picked up the white button-down Oswald had selected, as though it might disappear at his touch. Slowly, the pieces came together. Edward changed into the shirt, pulling on the pair of dark grey pants they’d purchased and then tucking it in. He picked up the deep green tie Oswald had set out, abruptly realizing that he hadn’t performed this ritual in weeks. It looked a bit silly, falling to the side over his protruding stomach, but Oswald quickly added a tie pin to the ensemble to hold it in place. Gesturing for Edward to sit, Oswald pulled on his socks and carefully pushed his feet into a more comfortable pair of shoes he owned. (It wasn’t easy for Edward to bend over anymore.) Standing, he helped Edward up and into a grey suit jacket to finish the look, overjoyed to see Edward smiling at his reflection for the first time in… well, _months_. Edward’s smile fell suddenly, lip wobbling. He turned and collapsed into Oswald’s arms, chin hooked over his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said, fingers clutching at Oswald’s back. “ _Thank you_.”

“I would tear this city apart brick by brick for you,” Oswald whispered fiercely. “A few alterations are hardly beyond me.”

***

“You got dill pickles?”

“Yes, dear.”

“And peanut butter?”

“ _Yes_ , dear.”

“Smooth, not chunky,” Edward specified, stomach growling.

“Of _course_ ,” Oswald said, putting the chunky back on the shelf and grabbing the smooth kind. “What do you take me for?”

“I’m running low on pineapple and cottage cheese as well,” Edward said. “Do you mind…?”

“Of course not, love. I’m already at the store,” Oswald told him. “Any other cravings you’d like me to indulge?”

“Cheese, definitely more cheese. Maybe some brie? And strawberries? I’m trying not to eat as much ice cream, I’m getting fat.” Oswald sighed.

“Darling, you’re pregnant. I think gaining a few pounds is par for the course.”

“Yes, but heathy pounds. Not ice cream pounds,” Edward explained. “Oh, and could you buy black olives?”

“Let me make sure I’ve got it. Pineapples and cottage cheese, brie cheese and strawberries, and black olives?”

“Yes, please,” Edward chirped, twirling the phone cord around his finger. “I could eat an entire watermelon by myself right now. Then again, I already look like I swallowed one whole...”

“Would you like a watermelon?” Oswald asked, turning back past the pineapples.

“No, don’t bring one home. I know I’ll eat it all if you let me, and you _always_ let me.”

“That’s not true!” Oswald protested, checking the bottom of a watermelon, phone tucked into the crook of his neck and shoulder.

“Yes, it is. Last time I said, ‘Oswald, don’t let me eat all of this,’ and you said, and I _quote_ ,” Edward affected a cadence that was something like Oswald’s speech and continued, “‘But dearest, you _are_ eating for two.’ Then I ate the entire thing on my own, like I said I would, and _you_ let me.”

“I want you to eat more,” Oswald admitted. “I feel like I’m taking better care of you when you do.”

“You’re enabling me,” Edward said. He sighed into the phone, voice softening. “You _do_ take care of me, Oswald. I don’t think I could have gotten through this without you. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Oswald said, putting the watermelon in the carriage. He wouldn’t let Ed eat the entirety of it this time. Maybe only half. 

“Come to think of it… I might be craving something else,” Edward purred into the phone. Oswald froze in his tracks in the middle of the cheese aisle. He knew what that tone meant. That was Edward’s _bedroom_ voice.

“You are?” he asked, unable to respond quite like he usually might, seeing as he was in public.

“ _Mmm_. Hurry home, husband. I’ll be waiting for you.” Oswald had never in his _life_ shopped as quickly as he did after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed I included room for a third chapter. That chapter is pending, but once again, if there's enough support for it I'm likely to continue this AU.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rating went up 'cause, y'know, childbirth. That's all.

“Oswald,” Edward said, putting down his fork. “It’s time.” Oswald looked up from his dinner, a puzzled expression on his face. 

“Time for what?” Edward grit his teeth through a contraction, unable to keep a hint of annoyance from his tone.

“The baby. Is. _Coming_.” Oswald was utterly still in his seat, fork raised halfway to his mouth with a potato still on the tongs. Edward’s patience grew thinner. 

“But… you’re not due until next week?”

“I don’t think the baby _cares_ ,” Edward said, grimacing. “We need to go to the hospital.” Oswald remained seated.

“ _Now_ , Oswald.” Oswald sprang from his chair, bursting into motion so suddenly Edward couldn’t get a word in edgewise as he dashed through the door.

“Wait here, I’ll bring the car around!” he called back. Edward gripped the edge of the table and tried to unclench his jaw. It felt like an age before Oswald returned, helping him out of his seat. Edward froze, feeling wetness between his legs. 

“What? What is it?” Oswald asked, eyes flitting nervously over his face. 

“I think my water just broke,” Edward said, putting a hand over the curve of his stomach. Oswald nodded to himself, letting go of Edward’s arms to take hold of one and lead him to the car.

“Everything we need has been packed already,” Oswald assured him. “Clothes for us, for the baby, a car seat, diapers, wipes, powder, formula, blankets… everything that was on the list you gave me.”

“Good,” Edward said, “That’s good.” He couldn’t even _remember_ what was on the rest of the list right now. They made it down the steps and to the car, Oswald opening the door for him while Edward braced himself against the roof. Once inside he buckled his seatbelt, grabbed the handle and _squeezed_ , reminding himself to breathe.

“Just breathe,” Oswald said, starting the car.

“I _am_!” Edward snapped, grinding his teeth again. _Oh, this is going to be so much fun._ Oswald, appropriately cowed by the labor-induced ire of his husband, did not say another word until they’d arrived at the hospital. 

“My husband is in labor,” Oswald told the receptionist, one hand on Edward’s back to comfort him.

“Name?” the receptionist asked.

“Cobblepot.” The sound of her typing was grating to Edward’s ears; he wanted to smash her face in with her keyboard. He imagined doing so, vividly, and felt a little better. 

“Mr. Nygma isn’t due until next week,” she relayed, not looking away from the screen. 

“That’s Mr. Cobblepot,” Edward relayed venomously, “and I am having this baby _right now_.”

“Why don’t you walk up and down the hall to work through those contractions while I get you the doctor,” she said, ignoring him. “It’s not unheard of to have some contractions a week before you’re due, I’m sure that’s all it is.”

“ _Oswald_ ,” Edward whispered, incredulous as his husband allowed her to simply walk away.

“She’s getting Doctor Cameron now,” Oswald soothed. “Let’s just walk a bit like she suggested while we wait.” Edward whimpered but followed without further protest. What else could he do? But the pain persisted despite walking, and he’d been mentally timing the contractions. They were only getting stronger, coming faster and more regularly. He’d been having them since the afternoon, ignoring them just as the receptionist had until they’d grown even more painful during dinner, coming about every five minutes. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind he was in labor, now where was his _doctor_. He stopped walking as another hit him, holding Oswald for support as it lasted a full minute. Oswald was speaking to him, but he couldn’t talk through it, and then finally, _finally_ , Doctor Cameron was coming towards them.

“He thinks he’s in labor?” she said, addressing Oswald. Oswald scowled. _There you are, my love_.

“I’m inclined to believe him,” Oswald said, an edge to his tone that made Edward gasp in relief and clutch him closer. His husband was handling things, all he needed to focus on was staying upright. “His water broke.”

“Well, we’ll see if that’s true. It might have just been urine. Why don’t you follow me, and I’ll see what’s going on?” Edward rolled his eyes and followed her into an exam room. She handed him a hospital gown and left the room. Edward changed into it with Oswald’s assistance, folding his clothing neatly on a nearby chair, and then signaled her to reenter. Both Oswald and his doctor assisted him onto the table, Oswald holding his hand afterwards while she snapped on a glove. He spread his legs and bit his lip through the discomfort of her fingers prodding at his cervix.

“Oh, wow.” Edward was going to kill someone.

“What do you mean: ‘ _Wow_ ’?” he hissed, squeezing Oswald’s hand in punishment for putting him through this.

“You’re already at least four centimeters. I’m going to get you into a delivery room, wait here.” She jogged out of the room, chucking the glove into the trash on her way. 

“You’re in active labor already?” Oswald exclaimed, still staring at the slowly closing door. Edward resisted the urge to yell back. 

“I wasn’t kidding when I said it was _time_ , Oswald. Get me some water.” Oswald went to the sink as if in a daze, checking the temperature with a finger and then filling a plastic cup from the rack. Edward dug his fingers into the exam chair as another contraction hit, a small noise of distress managing to escape him. Oswald rushed back to his side and kissed his brow, holding onto the water until the contraction was over, knowing full well Edward would not be able to drink it. When it was over, Edward accepted the cup from his husband and drank it gratefully. Doctor Cameron returned, a look of trepidation on her face. 

“It’s been a busy night in the ward, and all our delivery rooms are currently full, so what we’re going to do is—”

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Oswald cut in, laying a hand on Edward’s shoulder. “Doctor Cameron, you’ve been very good to Edward, but I need you to understand something. I brought my husband to this hospital to receive the best care available, and I am extremely _underwhelmed_. If you don’t get him into a delivery room in the next half hour, I am going to be _unhappy_. Then, I am just going to be _angry_. Now trust me when I tell you that you do _not_ want to bear the brunt of that anger. Do we understand one another?” She nodded quickly, nervously. “Well? _What are you waiting for?_ ” Doctor Cameron bolted, and Oswald seemed to deflate at least two inches. Edward still had no idea how he did it, making himself appear larger like that, almost like a bird ruffling its feathers. 

“I love you,” Edward said. He reached a hand out and beckoned Oswald closer, drawing him in for a kiss. Oswald cupped his jaw ever so gently, kissed him ever so softly. Edward broke away when another contraction began, taking Oswald’s proffered hand and crushing it. 

“I love you, too,” Oswald told him, kissing his forehead, his temple, his cheek. He rested a hand on Edward’s stomach. “And you too, you troublemaker. Coming a week early and throwing off your father’s plans.”

“Our child, a troublemaker?” Edward laughed. “Never. I’m sure we’ll have a little angel.”

“I was a very well-behaved child, I’ll have you know,” Oswald protested.

“You just never got caught,” Edward countered. Oswald considered this, then reluctantly nodded in agreement. Doctor Cameron returned, quicker than Ed had anticipated. 

“We’re working on a room now. I expect to move you in ten minutes.”

“Excellent,” Oswald said, feigning utter joviality. “Thank you, Doctor.” She smiled in relief and fled, no doubt happy to have avoided the horrors Oswald would have inflicted upon her on Edward’s behalf. As promised, they make it into the hospital’s notoriously advanced delivery room ten minutes later. Two hours after that, Edward had threatened Oswald with divorce, threatened his life, and threatened to castrate him. Not necessarily in that order.

“I hate you _I hate you I HATE YOU!_ ” Edward shrieked, likely breaking bones in Oswald’s hand. “How could you _do_ this to me?” Oswald stroked his hair, kissed his cheek. 

“You’re doing wonderfully,” Oswald told him, dutifully ignoring his husband’s vows to divorce him, end his life, and sever his penis from his body so he could never knock him up again. 

“You’re at ten centimeters,” Doctor Cameron reports. “I want you to start preparing to push.”

“I’m ready _now_ ,” Edward said, sweat dripping down his forehead already. 

“Alright, when you feel the contraction, you’ll have a natural instinct to push. This might take a while, but you’ll be able to take breaks between contractions, okay?”

“I already _know_ all of this,” Edward screeched, throwing Oswald’s hand way from him in disgust. “Don’t _touch_ me.” Oswald left him alone for a moment. Edward had threatened to kick him out of the room three times already, and then cried and asked him to come back. Oswald had been cautioned that his husband might go through periods of rejecting him and then wanting his touch during the labor, but the emotional whiplash of experiencing it was another thing entirely. He fetched Edward more water to replace the fluids he was losing, coming back to his bedside and hesitantly presenting his offering to his husband. Edward accepted it and downed the contents quickly, handing back the cup and then turning to address the doctor.

“Okay, one’s starting now. Just… push, right?” she nodded, indicating that he should begin.

“You’ll feel it.” Edward put his head back and stared up at the ceiling. Oswald watched as the muscles in his neck began to strain, the vein in his forehead bulging. When the contraction was over, Edward was panting.

“Breathe, love, you’re doing so well,” Oswald said, wiping the sweat from his forehead to keep it out of his eyes. 

“Give it everything you’ve got when the contractions come, alright Edward?” Doctor Cameron asked, peering between his legs. “Can you do that for me?”

“Roger dodger,” Edward said, his voice sounding a little hoarse to Oswald’s ears. Twenty more minutes passed in similar fashion, Edward pushing as hard as he was able through the contractions and then collapsing into the bed. He looked exhausted, hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead, and utterly red in the face. Oswald gave him ice chips and mopped at his brow, but he could tell Edward was reaching a breaking point in his pain tolerance. He’d opted to have a drug-free labor, and Oswald began to regret that he hadn’t pushed harder for Edward to get an epidural. Seeing his husband in so much pain wasn’t easy. As he’d suspected, Edward soon grew frustrated with his progress.

“I can’t do it,” Edward whispered, collapsing backward and letting his head loll to the side. Oswald took hold of his hands and kissed his knuckles, speaking gently to him.

“Look at me.” Edward shook his head weakly, tears streaking his face. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” Oswald dropped his hands and cupped his cheeks instead, pressing their foreheads together. 

“You _can_ ,” Oswald insisted. “You can do this, Edward. You’ve gotten so far already.” Doctor Cameron whispered something to a nurse, who quickly retrieved a mirror from a nearby drawer and handed it to Edward. 

“Take a look,” the doctor said. Edward narrowed his eyes and moved the mirror, allowing him to see between his legs. “You’re very close to crowning.” Edward gave it back to the nurse and took Oswald’s hand instead.

“I’m so proud of you,” Oswald said, kissing his forehead. “I believe in you, Edward.” Edward took a deep breath.

“Okay, okay.” Oswald watched him grimace as another contraction hit. He thought he heard a bone in his hand break, and then he heard the ear-piecing scream of his husband. Oswald kissed Edward’s temple and stoked his hair. Edward stopped suddenly and took the space between contractions to rest, Oswald whispering words of encouragement, praise, and comfort to him in the meantime. Gathering himself, Edward felt another contraction and began to bear down again, screaming so loudly with it he could feel the pain spreading in his throat, vocal cords turning to strings. When the contraction was over, the doctor had new instructions. 

“Okay Edward, you need to stop pushing now.”

“Stop?” Edward asked. It felt like all he had ever known was how to push this baby out, what did it mean to stop?

“Edward?” Oswald called. “Deep breathing, remember?” Oh, yes. Breathing. Edward obeyed the reminder, breathing deeply. He relaxed himself, remembering that this was the part where tension would increase his likelihood of tearing, and that the baby was meant to emerge naturally and then easily slip free, and then—

And then it did. 

Doctor Cameron caught their child and pronounced, “It’s a boy.”

Nurses swarmed her, cleaning off their son, and Edward was still marveling at that fact that his baby was _out here_ in the world and no longer inside of him. He was vaguely aware that the baby was crying, which was upsetting in some ways but mostly reassuring. It meant he was breathing. And he was _loud_ ; just like his father.

“You did it,” Oswald said, kissing his cheek. Edward could not tear his eyes away from their son. On a scientific level, it was easy to comprehend what his body had created. But seeing it… seeing it just felt like a miracle. He removed his glasses, slick with sweat and fogged from heat, and handed them to Oswald. Oswald mechanically cleaned them off and handed them back, and Edward checked to make sure that what he was seeing was real. 

Yes. There he was. 

“He’s all cleaned up now. Would you like to cut the cord?” the doctor asked, addressing them both. 

Oswald looked to Edward, who patted his hand as if to say, ‘I’ll be okay’ and instructed him to, “Go ahead.”

Oswald approached the baby cautiously. The nurses had already applied a clamp, all he needed to do was take the scissors and snip where they told him to. Edward looked on and smiled, watching Oswald make the cut and hand the scissors back, nervously shaking his head as they attempted to hand him the baby.

“I don’t want to drop him.” Edward finally found the nerve to pipe up, jittery but eager to hold his baby.

“I’d like to hold him.” Oswald came to his side as the doctor prepared to hand their son over, and Edward could scarcely believe that this creature had come from inside of him. He’d _watched_ it happen, and yet... 

“Help me get this off,” Edward directed Oswald, pulling at the hem of the gown rucked up around his waist. It was best that the baby have skin to skin contact, both to warm him and to bond. Edward had read that from several sources. Oswald helped lift the gown over his head, and then his son was placed onto his chest.

“He’s perfect,” Oswald told him, tear tracks making themselves known on his face. He’d gotten a blanket from somewhere, laying it over them. 

“He’s so small,” Edward said. Small because he was a week early, because Edward hadn’t eaten nutritiously enough, because—

“Actually, he’s perfectly normal for a newborn,” the doctor said. “They do _seem_ very small, don’t they? I’m going to do an Apgar test, we’ll deliver the placenta, and then another Apgar. Sound good?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Edward said, eyes glued to his son. He didn’t have any hair, he was a blotchy red color, his features looked pancaked, and he was the most beautiful creature Edward had ever seen. The doctor did her tests, relayed the score to the nurse, and then it was time for the placenta to go. The delivery was largely uneventful, the doctor pressing down on his abdomen and pulling gently on the cord to speed it along. They cleaned him up afterwards, running wipes between his legs. Edward hardly noticed, transfixed by his child. He was happy to hear that he hadn’t had any tearing, another miracle in and of itself. A second Apgar test followed, and a vitamin K injection for the baby. All the while Oswald held him, and they both spoke to their child, telling him how happy they were to see him, how much they loved him, how they’d been waiting for him. 

The baby’s eyelids hesitantly opened, staring up at Edward. Edward gasped, overjoyed to see his husband’s eyes twinkling up at him from such small features. 

“Oswald,” Edward said, holding his arm. “Look, he has your eyes.” 

“Let’s hope he has your handsome nose,” Oswald said, dropping a kiss on it. 

“You nose _is_ handsome,” Edward said, “Don’t get me started.” Oswald raised his hands as if in surrender.  

“If it’s alright with you both, I’d like to give him his first bath and take his measurements,” Doctor Cameron told him.

“I’d like a copy of his handprints and footprints,” Edward said, letting her pick the baby up off his chest. 

“Not a problem. We’ll do everything in here, and put on his ID bands.” First came the prints and measurements. Edward learned that his baby was seven pounds and three ounces, perfectly healthy and in no way as small as he had feared. They set up a bath next to the bed and preformed it under the parents’ watchful eyes, drying him and placing him right back onto Edward’s chest, ID band in place and ink wiped clean. 

“Alright, you guys can take some time to bond, maybe see if the little guy’s hungry. I’ll be back with the birth certificate.” Edward moved the baby’s mouth to his nipple, figuring he may as well offer it, even if the baby might not be interested this soon. To his surprise, the baby latched immediately and with hardly any coaxing. 

“Such a sweet boy,” Oswald praised, running a gentle finger down the baby’s back. “Being so good for your daddy.”

“Oh dear,” Edward said, watching his son eat. “He’s _ravenous_.” He was delighted to see it; especially given the warnings he’d had about other men like him being unable to get their children to latch at all, or at the very least struggling to do so.

“He has an appetite,” Oswald said, clearly very pleased. He kissed Edward’s cheekbone and placed a hand over the one Edward had on their son.

“He’s eating!” the doctor commented happily, coming back into the room with a clipboard. “Just fill this out and sign off, and he should be in the system within a month. You’ll be able to get a copy then. I’ll leave you alone now.” She handed the paperwork to Oswald and was gone in a flash. 

“Alright, what did you decide for a name?” Oswald asked, uncapping the pen. Edward swallowed, realizing he’d made an egregious error. 

“Oswald… I have a confession.” Oswald’s eyes snapped up to his. “Okay, that made it sound worse than it is. As you know, I was fairly convinced we were having a girl, and, well… I don’t have anything in mind for a boy.” Oswald blinked at him.

“You’re kidding me.” Edward sighed. 

“I’m not. It was a fifty-fifty chance, and I committed.”

“Alright, well, what would you have named our daughter? Maybe we can work with that,” Oswald suggested. 

“Hannah Graham Cobblepot. Sounds like ‘anagram’, and is also an imperfect anagram of ‘anagram’. Plus, the name Hannah is itself a palindrome. But I don’t think there’s anything equivalent for boys, and we’re not naming our son _Hannah_ ,” Edward said, thinking out loud. 

“You know,” Oswald hesitantly began, “I’d like to name him after my father.” Edward couldn’t believe how simple it really was. How obvious. How _Oswald_. 

“Elijah,” Edward said, looking down at their son. “How would you like that?” The baby continued forcefully suckling at his chest, which Edward took to mean that he didn’t hate it. He turned to Oswald. 

“Any ideas for a middle name?” Oswald shook his head. “Well, I’ve always liked the name Theodore.” Oswald glared at him, giving Edward no doubt that this was surely going to be an instance of veto. 

“What?”

“ _Theo_ , really?” Edward bit his lip. His bad. 

“Okay, hard no on Theodore. Pass me my phone?” Oswald fished through Edward’s clothing and retrieved it. With one hand Edward found an equivalent name, _Thaddeus_ , which he thought would be suitably archaic for his husband’s tastes. Then there was the meaning to consider, which Edward found he quite liked. ‘God’s gift’. Perhaps not god, but Edward had always attributed crossing paths with Oswald to a higher power. To fate. And there was no doubt that Elijah was a gift beyond measure. 

“Thaddeus?” Edward suggested, carefully watching Oswald’s reaction. Oswald considered this new proposition and nodded.

“I think I rather like that, actually,” Oswald said. “It seems a bit weighty for an infant, but I’m sure he’ll grow into it.”

“Elijah Thaddeus Cobblepot,” Edward said, addressing the tiny baby still attacking his nipple with fervor. ETC. Well, those were excellent initials. 

“Welcome to the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally a doctor just shows up to catch the baby, but they're rich so, y'know... I hope this chapter satisfied everyone's wants, and thank you to everyone who commented for supporting this story. I look forward to reading any comments, keyboard smashes, strings of hearts, reactions gifs... surprise me <3
> 
> Also... I've never had a baby, or seen someone have a baby, so anyone with more experience than me is totally allowed to correct me on any part of this process.


End file.
